Tell me a story

There’s a part of me

that see’s this all clearly

like a child standing in a crowd

there’s really only one way out.

What is it that you see

it’s fine to disagree

why if the world’s mine oyster please

forgive me for the lack of belief.

I had this faith in you

I thought you had it too

how many smiles does it take to show

the unhappiness we grew to know.

Do you take this hand

would you understand

lighting matches just to prove you could

did it ever do you any good?

Tell me a story, one without love, cause it’s taken me for granted so many times—enough.

There’s a part of you

engrained in me now

I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit

it’s a piece I won’t ever regret.

So what’s the point of these prose

and insecurity poems

like a fish needs water to breathe

I guess it really isn’t up to me.

If this is just a passing feeling

I’ll agree to disagree then

watch the sun rise and fall once more

a couple hours then I’ll start the chore.

You see I know my problems

it’s not up to you to solve them

if I go out the Hemingway

like Kerouac first I’ll have my say so

Tell me a story, one without love, cause I’ve taken you for granted so many times—c’mon.

Tell me a story, one without love, cause it’s taken me for granted so many times—enough.

alone and warm and aware

The sun is warm on my face

grey shadow upon wood grain

stuck somewhere between

sympathy and harmony

with the universe

and where a headache should be

there is none

and where a heart should be

there is stone

and where I should be

there is shadow

alone and warm and aware

cast too across wood grain with

the closing doors of another work shift.

semi colons &

It was raining cats and dogs

when she spoke in

semi colons &

claustrophobia.

I’m glad you’re here,

she said.

I told her that

I was glad that she was too.

So we continued our

run on sentences &

admiration a while longer

before settling on goodbye.

It had stopped raining

and the sun was coming out.

As for the cats and dogs

they lay sleeping sound.

Rapid Eye Movement

You are an embarrassment

he said while picking my pockets

vacant I stared idle

in an undisclosed location

Danielle sat next to me

tenderly stroking the inside flesh

of my arm although

we’d only spoken a handful of times

back in grade school, he said again

Nobody likes you, you know

So I just agreed with him because

her fingers felt like grasshopper wings

fluttering through my mind, he

looked a deep sorrow longer

and that’s where he began to cry

I am sorry my friend, I said while he

cradled me like a new born lamb

only I was much bigger than him

so by the end of it it was I who was

more so doing the cradling, then

as he disappeared effortlessly

Danielle and I sat a long while

next to one another, her hair

long dark and full of whispers

while the room filled with necessary strangers

Holding hands for a while she said,

you aren’t that bad you know

he just really loves you is the point

and then too disappeared into a sea of snakes

which I could not swim

while the couch turned to an island

I sat sipping from my cup

the bitter dark liquid I had earlier poured.

The morning

I’ve missed you

said the morning

to the man

at the top of the hill.

I’m so sorry

said the man

to the rising sun.

Don’t be sorry, be present

said the wind.

We’ve missed you, that’s all

said the trees.

And we’re glad that you are here

said the sun.

Thank you

said the man

at the top of the hill.

Now go

said the morning

there’s so much more for you to see.

So the man began

his descent into the valley

this time

with only his shadow trailing behind.

petty thieves

as my head grows tired

wicked thoughts persist

my handkerchief’s been stolen

by Oliver Twist, such grueling times

though we both know,

more gruel for the youngster

the farther he’ll go,

and what petty crimes

the slip of the tongue

but why dear boy, do you continue to run?

I’ve asked you first, now answer

me? It’s for my health, and body you see,

nobody likes a little cunt

nobody cares for the likes of us

so hand it over, my handkerchief? No

my boy, you’re not a thief,

I knew that then, like I know now

your common and good

as good allows,

what I request, you cannot see

it grows within both you and me

those wicked thoughts, hand them over

my head’s now clear, fine and sober

and promise this, all right you first?

no this is not me at my worst,

so why don’t I? well why don’t you?

it’s yours to keep, yes that will do,

you’re right, perhaps I couldn’t see

the horror that in my defeat

is pure of heart, is yours is mine

both petty thieves in our own time

*Footnote: #101

random thoughts: we all have them, every second of everyday, so it’s no surprise when they pop up from time to time in the least and even a lot of times, expected places, like, hey, I was just thinking that, that’s my idea, or a kind of, sort of, variation of what I was thinking when doing X and Y throughout the day.

We’re very much alike even though it can feel like we’re so very different, but different in a good kind of way, a constructive way, a way that universalizes our emotions and expectations of ourselves and others around us.

I can almost guarantee you have more in common with the guy bagging your groceries, or pouring your latte than you do with fellow employees, or even some friends for that matter.

So, I’d like to propose that these rand0m th0ughts be an open platform to share, discuss, question, debate, relate, or even just to vent, with purpose of course, how full of crap menial thoughts throughout the day really are – perhaps they’re not?

Let’s decide together.

Conversation is key, and I look forward to hearing back from you readers, writers, and all around daily thinkers of rand0m th0ught.

Conversations with myself.

I try to hang loose

but always end up

twisted, like a

damp dish towel.

Stained and tattered.

Are we really back here again?

Rinse and repeat.

Haven’t you learned anything yet?

Rinse and repeat.

I bet you like it this way, don’t you?

It’s quieter here…shh!

With voices in your head?  You’re too easy.

It’s alright if you sweat, just

don’t let them see you turn.

Are we really back here again?

Metaphorically speaking,

we never actually left.

Places just become new places.

People get replaced by other people.

Lies become fiction.

Truth becomes fantasy.

Like a damp dish towel,

twisting facts

until

they hang loose.